


My best friend Aubrey

by Ghostwriter9723



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/F, F/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Swearing, Unplanned Pregnancy, Unrequited Love, non-graphic birth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:53:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23498575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ghostwriter9723/pseuds/Ghostwriter9723
Summary: Being pregnant sucks ass. Truly. Your feet swell, the morning sickness should actually be called all day, everyday sickness until the last day of your pregnancy and your breasts swell like no one’s business. Your nipples get sore and sometimes even leak on your new maternity top because you’re too fat to fit into your clothes anymore.
Kudos: 7





	My best friend Aubrey

Being pregnant sucks ass. Truly. Your feet swell, the morning sickness should actually be called all day, everyday sickness until the last day of your pregnancy and your breasts swell like no one’s business. Your nipples get sore and sometimes even leak on your new maternity top because you’re too fat to fit into your clothes anymore. Being heavily pregnant in the height of summer is fucking horrendous. The heat coupled with the weight of the baby makes you sweatier than the devil’s asshole and getting comfortable in any chair is nigh on impossible. The mood swings drive everyone that you love within a 30-mile radius insane and your cravings make everyone feel sick.

No one knows this more than I do. This is currently my life, waddling around at almost 8 months pregnant in August. Thing is, I love my baby. This whole pregnancy thing was a shock, an accident, a mistake, whatever you want to call it – believe me I’ve heard it all. Mainly from my ultra-religious and very disappointed parents, who haven’t really spoken to me much since I told them that I was 25, single and pregnant with a one-night stand’s baby. They thought I was still a virgin, go figure.

That’s not to say I’m on my own. My best friend/roommate has been helpful, running out to pick up my cravings and letting me arrange her on various bits of furniture so I can snuggle with her comfortably. We met at university, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed 18-year olds that clicked within our first week and have been inseparable ever since. Sounds sweet right? Best friends, roommates for the past 6 years, each other’s safety wives in case we never find ‘the one’. Problem is, I’m mad in love with her, have been for a long time.

As cliché as it is, my unrequited love for Aubrey is to blame for this baby. The night he or she was conceived, I had gone out with the intention of getting a bit drunk and probably (see: definitely) getting laid by anyone remotely attractive after a couple of drinks. I’d gotten blind drunk, kissed a few different girls but ended up going home with a tall dark and handsome guy. He was gorgeous, but if I’m honest, I probably left with him because of how similar his features were to hers. It wasn’t the first time I’d chosen a bed partner because their dark skin and eyes reminded me of hers. I can’t be certain that it’ll be the last.

Aubrey is the reason I know that I’m attracted to girls. Sure, I’d had stirrings in the trouser region because of girls over the years before I met her, but my attraction to Aubrey punched me in the face. The first time I met her, she was walking in the opposite direction to me on her way to a class, her long, wild hair in curls around her face and glasses perched on her nose, her lower lip gently between her teeth as she tried to make sense of the campus map in her hands. I was hit with the urge to kiss those plump lips and tangle my fingers in her hair. I wanted to see what her mouth looked like turned up in a smile, her dark brown eyes sparkling with humour or mischief. An unfamiliar wave of confidence rushed over me and I approached her and asked if she needed help with finding her building; we’ve been attached since, probably to the point of detriment.

I don’t know if it’s better or worse that she’s queer too. If she was straight, I would never have a chance, but it hurts that she likes women and she’s never tried to be more than friends with me. I get a little thrill at the thought of raising this baby with her. I know it’s pathetic and that I need to move on, she’s not interested in me and I’m just making myself miserable, but I don’t know how to not love her.

It’s getting harder and harder to pretend that I don’t love her, especially as my pregnancy progresses. It’s been so easy to pretend that we’re a couple welcoming our first baby; she’s been to every scan with me, helped me through bouts of morning sickness, felt the first kick. She sleeps in my bed most nights now – not that she didn’t sleep in there a few times a week before the pregnancy - and wakes up to the baby kicking her in the back some nights. She makes me my favourite foods, rubs my aching feet while we watch TV and she’s promised to hold my hand throughout my labour. She means everything to me.

***** 

It’s happening. At half-past 2, the morning of the 4th day of my 38th week, my water broke. Aubrey and I woke to soaked pyjamas and sheets. There was a moment of absolute quiet as we both grasped what was happening before a wave of indescribable pain hit me. Hard. I tried to breathe through the contraction like I’d been taught at the classes that Aubrey and I went to together, while she whispered reassurances to me and rubbed my back. As soon as it passed, I slumped back, leaning of the headboard of the bed and watching through half-lidded eyes as Aubrey gathered the birthing bag and called her parents to let them know that it had started. She ran me a warm bath and helped me lower myself into the soothing water, letting me cling to her as I breathed and moaned through a few more contractions. She wiped my tears away and helped me dry off, bundling me into the car as soon as my contractions were 20 or so minutes apart.

I spent the half an hour drive resting my forehead against the cool glass of the window, fighting nausea and clenching my fists to distracts from the pain of the contractions. Getting into the delivery ward and a bed was a blur and I clung to Aubrey and let them take me wherever, knowing that she was there, my ever-steady rock in the storm, calming me and protecting the baby. Our baby. I knew there was no need to be scared. She was there with me, holding me up, supporting me the way she had since the beginning.

Hours and hours of pushing, crying, screaming, thinking of giving up. Agonising pain lancing through me with every contraction, the burn of every push, all of it was made more bearable because she was there, brushing my hair away from my face and kissing my forehead, telling me how amazing I am. And then, at 6.49 am, a sharp cry was heard. My little Elijah was here, finally, after 9 months of discomfort and hours of agony, my baby boy was born. I watched as Aubrey shed a few tears of her own as she cut his cord. And later, when her parents had seen him and Eli was dozing in her strong, safe arms, her eyes watching his every move, counting his every breath I couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“I love you, so fucking much.”

She looked up at me, a smile playing on those lips that I loved from our first meeting, her beautiful brown eyes sparkling and a tear rolling down her cheek. She scooted closer, her arms tightening a little around the baby, and kissed me gently on my chapped lips.

“I love you too, Naomi.”

**Author's Note:**

> So this is the first thing I've ever posted to AO3 and the first short story I've ever shared. Constructive criticism is always welcome. Might post another from Aubrey's POV.
> 
> Thanks for reading!  
> IDP x


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